


Some Of A Kind

by NormalDemonicBehavior



Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Implied Drug Use, Loss of Virginity, Murder, Too much sarcasm, poorly represented satanism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:40:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27990900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NormalDemonicBehavior/pseuds/NormalDemonicBehavior
Summary: When you accompany your friend to a black mass at the Church of Satan. You pick the wrong time and place to let him in on the fact that you’re a virgin, garnering the attention of the ‘chosen one’ himself.
Relationships: Michael Langdon/Reader, Michael Langdon/You
Comments: 28
Kudos: 94





	1. Virgin In The Chapel

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking a little while ago about the irony of Michael possibly being a virgin, since they are often the ones being sacrificed to his father. Then I thought it would be pretty progressive of the satanists to judge the purity of someone not based on the social construct of virginity, but for what lies in their heart/soul. Somehow that got us here...

It was a typical Wednesday night when you got a text from your friend Tyler. 

‘So what do you say? Is tonight the night?’

He had been bugging you for weeks to come see a sacrifice at the satanic church. And since the first time he asked, the conversation always went the same way.

/

“I’m telling you, just one slice and then you can have whatever you want”

“You mean I can have powers beyond compare?”

“Yes” he answered back, in a hopeful tone. Clearly he hadn’t picked up on the sarcasm in your voice.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the excitement in his voice.

“I’m sorry, you do whatever you want over there with your edgelords but I’m perfectly happy in my boring powerless existence”

“First of all we aren’t edgelords, we're satanists. We just see the world for what it is. A dreadful place full of selfish people.”

“Well I can’t say I argue with that”

“Exactly, so give in to being selfish, and start doing what you want. You work so hard, and for what a one bedroom apartment you can barely afford and bags under your eyes that are only getting bigger by the day?”

“Hey” you interrupt, slightly offended. Which only earns a laugh on his end.

“I’m just saying, you put in so much effort for no pay off, when you could do this one thing and have everything you deserve”

“What a cable package and a ‘skip the line’ pass at Disneyland?” 

“I also get unlimited snacks!”

“Oh sorry how could I forget, well if one soul is all it takes to get a free waffle cone then what are we still doing here?!” You ask back, your tone full of mockery.

“Have you ever wondered why I can snort as much coke as I want and have never OD’d? Or why every girl I bring home is a certified 10?”

Actually you had, the two of you had met the year prior in a religious studies class when you were partnered to write a paper on whether morality was dependent on a god. He could barely get through a sentence without tripping over his words or looking away in embarrassment. It was sweet really, and by the end of the class you two had basically become best friends.

But about 2 months ago things started to change. There was almost always a girl leaving his house when you would come over.  
You swore at least two of them you recognized from Victoria Secret runways.  
One night you even saw a man leaving whose resemblance to Ryan Reynolds was suspiciously uncanny.  
He got a new car without any explanation as to where he got the money, and he had so much coke in his living room you assumed he started dealing, before he told you it was just his stash for the weekend. 

At first he was vague about everything, but eventually he told you the truth, or at least what you assumed was a version of it. 

For his final project he wrote a research paper on the church of Satan.  
You went with him to a couple of services when he was writing it, him being too nervous to go alone.  
You both thought they seemed a little kooky, but relatively harmless. 

Yet what you didn’t know was that he kept going back after the class ended and had gotten himself sworn in, and eventually given the honor of participating in a black mass.  
Where he had sacrificed a school teacher in order to get these new “gifts”. 

Now you weren’t naive enough to think he actually killed someone!  
You were sure his new lifestyle was a part of some religious Ponzi scheme, and one day the debt collector would come calling.  
You’ve watched enough documentaries to know better than to get involved with this.  
But he is still your friend so you take it upon yourself to be supportive and let him have his moment, while simultaneously letting him know you’ll be here for him if the day comes that he gets excommunicated.

“I love you and I am so happy for all you’ve gotten, especially when you share it with me, but I’m good, really. I’ll let you know if I ever change my mind”

That dropped the subject for a while.

That is until a few days ago when you lost your job.  
Well actually when your job was stolen from underneath you by your boss's son.

All it took was one night of bitching to your best friend for the talks of satanism to start up again. 

//

So here you were bored on a Wednesday night actually considering his offer to watch a black mass.

‘Well…’

He texted back after a few minutes of no response on your part

‘Fine’

It’s not like he’s ever going to let up, you might as well go see what all the hubbub was about.

After he picked you up, you made your way to the church.  
More precisely the back alley with a hidden door. Not at all unsettling.  
And the rain pelting down on the robe he gave you just adds a nice ominese touch to what you're sure is going to be a long night. 

Now inside you sit in a pew in the back. While the choir above you sings as the others file in. 

They actually sound pretty good if you’re being honest. Maybe on your way out you’ll pick up the album you saw for sale in the lobby (for $6.66 no less). 

You haven’t been sitting more than 10 minutes before the mass begins.  
And in that time Tyler roughly explained what you were about to see.  
You weren’t paying too much attention though. More enamored with the atmosphere. 

It was a sea of red cloaks and black pentagrams. And the thunder outside appeared to clap along in sync with the crescendo or the choir. 

This place seems vastly different from the shabby collection of misfits you encountered when you visited the first time. Who spent most of the service complaining and handed you a stale donut on your way out the door. 

“...Y/n are your listening?!”

“Hmm Yea”

“Really?”

“Yea the guy’s gonna sacrifice some ‘innocent soul’ say a few hail satans and voilà he gets his hair back and starts getting laid again” you answer back, waving him off. You’re more interested in watching two Satanists in the front of the room give each other the “sign of the cross” gesture in reverse order.

“This is serious, the things you see might shock you but you can not react! If they think you’re some sort of threat to our secrets or even just afraid of them, it won’t end well. I’m kind of taking a risk by bringing you here”  
That brings your attention back to your friend.

“So you hound me for weeks to come with you, but I’m not even allowed to be here?” You ask back, starting to wonder why you actually said yes to this.

“Well yea, I just really want you to see what I’ve seen, I want what’s best for you”

That was actually really sweet of him.  
Now you felt a little bad for making fun of this so much.  
That is until you see a man in the next row pull out a flask with “unholy water” written on it and rub it on his chest like Vick’s.  
But before you get the chance to ask Tyler where he keeps his flask(which you're certain he has). The choir stops singing and the Priestess has the room's attention. 

Everything goes as Tyler explains at first.  
The “sacrifices” are brought in in their underwear. (They couldn’t even keep their clothes on, what does the devil give them a level up if the victims are humiliated before they die?) and tonight's chosen one, Phil, is about to take his position, before you hear a voice behind you.

“Wait!”

You turn your head to see an older woman rushing in, but it’s not her that steals your focus it’s who walks in behind her. 

He is quite possibly the most attractive person you have ever seen. With cheekbones that could slice butter and soft blonde hair falling around icy blue eyes.  
She says his name is Michael and this honor belongs to him.  
You look over to Tyler to see what’s going on. He didn’t explain what part of the performance this was, was this some sort of second act surprise?  
You were expecting this night to follow like a church service, watching Phil take his vows and minimal audience participation. Now you wonder if this is all rehearsed, or if the Satanist’s are partial to improv?

But Tyler pays you no mind, he can’t take his eyes off the blonde either. 

It’s not until the Priestess mentions the “mark of the beast” and that he is the chosen one, that you get why Tyler is looking at him like he’s some sort of god.  
Because to him he is, this guy is supposed to be the Antichrist.  
Tyler says nothing only glances in your direction when he sees you’re the only one still standing, before he pulls you down to your knee like everyone else. 

The rest of the performance is really top notch. 

The flickering of the lights was a nice touch, but you can’t help but feel a little uneasy wondering how they keep getting the thunder to time up with everything they do.  
Plus the bodies of the sacrifices fell to the ground almost too well.  
How did they manage to get their bodies to look that lifeless, and why did those cuts look so deep?  
But you try not to focus too much on it as you walk to the ceremonial Wednesday night potluck. 

/

After the Antichrist has dismissed his followers from fawning all over him, you sit with Tyler at the end of the table and dig into your lasagna.

“So does the antichrist part happen at every sacrifice or is this one special? Is it some Satanic holiday I wasn’t aware of?” You ask, breaking Tyler out of whatever trance he appears to be stuck in.

“What?” 

“I gotta say the dramatics were very entertaining, but if you really wanted to get me here all you had to do was tell me the guy who plays the Antichrist is really hot” you snicker under your breath.

“Play? Y/n your don’t understand he IS the Antichrist” he explains in a hushed voice before continuing

“That doesn’t happen every time, he really has come. This is the moment we’ve all been waiting for! Don’t you see?! I think it was fate you came here on this night!”

“Ha, why do you need a virgin to sacrifice or something?” You laugh and take another bite before you look over and see Tyler staring at you with wide eyes.

“What?” 

“You’re not serious are you?”

“Well yea, what’s the big deal, I didn’t realize you were so caught up on a social construct”

“I’m not, but you can’t say things like that around here” he looks around the room nervously and you follow his path of vision until your eyes land on Michael, who’s own gaze is locked on you. 

There’s no way he heard you, you were across the room and you were whispering. 

Still he continues to stare with eyes that speak only of intensity. No smile, no nod, no hint emotion whatsoever.  
It’s only after you raise your brows and mouth a “What?” That he looks back down at his plate with a hint of a smile on his lips. 

“Oh Satan, I think he heard you. You should go” Tyler’s tone becoming more erratic by the second.

“What?” You’re sure he's joking, but when he looks at you there is nothing but worry in his eyes. 

Now you’re starting to get nervous, this is too far.  
He actually thinks these people are going to do something?  
He’s practically shaking with fear, and because of the man in the turtleneck? Who barely knows how to hold a spoon?  
Okay you’ll play along for tonight, but tomorrow you are having a serious talk, he might need professional help.

“Alright let's go then” you huff out as you start to grab your belongings. 

“I can’t just leave, especially since our savior is here, but I’ll make sure everything is good and you’re not followed or anything”

“Okay, is there some sort of satanic shuttle bus that can take me home? Or should I call an Uber? Does this place have an address or should I just send them an inverted cross?”

Still unamused by your inability to grasp the gravity of the situation, he just shakes his head and hands you his keys.  
“Here just take my car, I’ll get a ride later, in fact stay at my house incase you’re followed”  
He’s basically pushing you out of your seat and nodding to the door.

“Okay...bye I guess”

And with that you take off down the hall. 

You know you’re supposed to go straight to the car. You’ve never seen Tyler look so serious in his life.  
But when you walk past the chapel you can’t help but stop. You can still see the bodies up at the altar.  
Why are they still there? Was there a trap door you missed and these were just doubles?  
Or were these people so committed to the role and as crazy as your friend that they had to stay in the character of “dead sacrifice” all night?

Curiosity got the better of you, the car could wait, you had to see for yourself.

Closer inspection did nothing to stifle your suspicions.  
It looked so real.  
They weren’t breathing, so there was no way they were still the two actors, but you had never seen fake bodies look so real.  
You're reminded of an anatomy class you took last semester.  
Those cadavers looked suspiciously close to these.  
Just colder and with less life left in their faces.  
And there was so much blood, the iron was thick in the air.  
But that couldn’t be true. Your friend wouldn’t kill someone would he?  
He didn’t actually think they would kill you?  
If you got a closer look, if you just swiped some of the “blood” with your pointer finger it would surely taste like corn syrup and not like…

“Are you afraid?”

You whip your head around, blood still staining your finger and beginning to drip onto the linoleum. To see Michael walking in the same way he had an hour earlier. Only this time without the cloak, but with some newly added confidence.

“They’re really dead aren’t they?” You know it’s true, but you still wait for his confirmation.

“Yes, that tends to happen when you slice someone’s throat” He acts as if this shouldn’t be a shock to you. It didn’t shock any of the other members of the congregation. Yet you know without him saying it, that he’s well aware you’re not like the others. That you don’t belong here.

“So you really sacrifice people, just to get stuff” you blurt out. Still trying to wrap your head around the fact that everything you witnessed tonight was real. Perhaps you shouldn’t have taken that last crescent roll you’d seen another satanist eyeing at dinner, you definitely have a curse coming your way. That is if you live through the night.

“Well not me” Michael says, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to the present.

“Oh of course, you’re the one they do it for”

“Well my father more specifically”

“Does that upset you?” You know you should be more careful about how you proceed with this conversation, but the words leave your mouth before your mind can stop them.

The question seems to catch him by surprise as he ruffles his brow, you’re not sure if it’s in anger or just shock at your brazenness. But he doesn’t answer. Just goes on to question you.

“Have you ever witnessed a murder before?”

“No”

“How did you feel watching it before your eyes?”

“Well I didn’t feel much, considering I thought it was all fake” That earns you a smile from him.

“And how do you feel now?”

“Curious”

“Really? Not scared?”

“No. Why should I be?” You’re really digging your own grave here. But your mouth seems to have a mind of its own.

“It seems your friend would say otherwise”

“Ah so you did hear.” You say, seeing his smile grow wider. “These aren't the days of the Old Testament, virginity doesn’t equally purity. Just ask sacrifice number one over there, with a body like that I doubt she was a virgin” you laugh, partially at your joke and partially out of sheer uncomfortableness. Michael doesn’t even spare the bodies a glance, eyes latched onto you, you go on to add  
“I’m no saint. Despite my sexual history, or lack thereof”

“No, I’m sure you’re not” he emphasizes by swiping some of the liquid from your finger with his own, before taking it into his mouth. Making a show of it by closing his eyes as he releases it from his lips, slow as molasses. Smiling when he opens his eyes and sees you’re practically drooling.

Before his little show can go any further, you continue with your own questions. 

“Have you killed people before?”

“Yes”

“How many?”

“You don’t have the time” 

He’s looking at you waiting for your response. Waiting for the shock to subside and the shrieks of terror to take over.

Instead you just pause thinking everything over.

You should be scared, you know you should.  
In one night you have watched two people die, found out your friend is a murderer, and that the Antichrist is not only NOT a myth, but is standing in front of you, conversing with you like he’s nothing more than your new neighbor. 

Yet you search and search in your mind for any hint of fear and come up empty. All you feel is curiosity. You must be losing it too, you feel bad for judging Tyler so harshly. Maybe it’s his youthful face and the little outburst in the dining hall earlier, but Michael seems like more than simply the ‘incarnation of evil’. He seems so...human.  
And more than anything he just seems confused and dare you say, lost.

“Do you like killing people? Or do you do it because it’s expected?”

“It depends”

“Would you like to kill me?”

Now it’s his turn to take pause, looking like he’s trying to decide if he’s “in the mood” to take your life.  
“Not right now”

You can’t help but laugh at that (yea you’re definitely in shock). Soon enough he joins in too, and the mood feels lighter than it has all night. You might even say you feel comfortable.

That is until the laughter subsides and you meet his eyes. He’s now staring at you with the same intensity you’d met earlier at dinner.  
It’s like he’s looking right through you, into your soul. You feel on display and more than anything afraid of what he might find. 

“Stop that”

“Stop what?” He says with a playful tone and a tilt of his head.

“You’re..well..I don’t know what you’re doing but I don’t like it. You’re trying to get a read on me or something.” 

He just smiles at that, because of course he does.  
You know there is no avoiding playing into his hand. He wants to get a rise out of you, in one way or another.

“And what do yo-”

“Y/N!”

At the mention of your name you both turn to see Tyler standing in the doorway. 

Antichrist or not, the look Michael gives him is enough to send a wave of fear up your spine.  
He appears as though he’s about to snap his neck through just a look(and you're afraid to find out if he could).

Noticing his anger, Tyler stops and bows before Michael, apologizing incessantly for interrupting him. 

You don’t miss the twitch of Michael’s lips. He’s clearly loving the effects he has on his followers. 

You just roll your eyes at your friend.

“Calm down Tyler, get up” 

He just let’s your words pass over him as if you hadn’t even spoken. If he hadn’t been the one to call your name a moment ago, you wouldn’t be sure he even knew you were in the room.  
Every sense he had was aimed at Michael, and it was only when his precious dark lord gave him a nod that he got up and looked your way again.

“What are you doing? I thought you were going home?” He says through clenched teeth.  
If he weren’t so worried about keeping you alive he would be pissed at you for not listening.

“I was. I am” you reassure him turning to Michael.

“It was a pleasure to meet you Michael, I’ll see myself out”

You are scurrying out of the room, grabbing a frozen Tyler and tugging him along with you, when Michael calls after you.

“No y/n, the pleasure was all mine.”

You’re at the end of the hall, and in the middle of Tyler’s scolding session, when you realize there is still blood on your finger.  
It feels like it’s vibrating where Michael touched you, begging you to take notice.

Just wipe it on your jeans, you tell yourself.  
Wait until you get to the car and find a napkin.  
Do anything rational other than what you're thinking.

As you pass through the exit door, you cave and take a taste of the crimson on your finger. 

Although you can’t see him, you know Michael is smiling. You can feel his smugness in the air around you and you're sure he knows what you just did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not going to lie, I don’t really know where this is going lol. I mostly wrote this with the intent of making jokes at the expense of Michael and the Satanists. It’s been sitting half finished in my notes for a little while and I thought hey, might as well post it, maybe that will spark some inspiration. So here we are! If you made it this far, thank you for reading!!  
> P.s. did I go back in and add 1 word to get this to 3,666? You bet I did! Lol


	2. Maybe It’s The Devil I Know

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween night brings a surprise visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I got a little carried away with the chapter, like 10,000 words carried away. So I decided to cut it into two chapters. Not too much happens in this one but it seemed like the best place to cut it.

After your awkward encounter with Michael, you decided to avoid all things Satanism. Tyler appeared to feel the same, he was still an avid follower of course, but all discussion on the subject with you stopped.  
So it came as quite a shock when you got a text from him on Halloween of all nights, to come down to a party being thrown by the church. And the biggest shock of all came later when you found out who the invite really came from.

//

Halloween was a pretty big deal to Satanists, in some ways it was like their Christmas. The one day a year when people embraced their wild side, when gore and murder were shown all over television. People of all ages, from children to the elderly, were looking to be scared. It was a time when Satan took a day off from being the bad guy and even suburban soccer moms were throwing on devil horns to celebrate.

So it’s not a surprise that Michael was invited to just about every gathering from every sect of the Satanist Church. Stretching from parties at his celebrity followers' mansions, to a gala thrown by the black pope himself, all the way down to a small dinner at a little hole in the wall church down in LA. 

It didn’t take him even a moment to decide who he would be spending the evening with. It had been a couple of weeks since he had attended the black mass. He hadn’t been back since, being busy at Kineros cooking up a new and improved Miss Mead, but that church stayed on his mind. He had planned on making another visit, just to check in. He would like to see Madeline again and thank her for her help, maybe see if anyone had taken their sins up a notch, or if they had gotten any new members. He wouldn’t be looking for anyone in particular of course. Nobody else had left any impact on him, and that person who he is definitely not thinking about also had absolutely no influence on whose invite he accepted tonight. 

No it was for the church and the church alone. They had been kind to him, they gave him his power back, and with their help he was getting Miss Mead back too. So it was only right to spend such a day with them. After all they had been so hospitable to him and he decided he would take it a step further and reward them with his own hospitality. He would make the night a grand affair. He’d order caterers and rent out the entirety of Chateau Mormont. He’d introduce the members to some of the higher ups in the church, and he would even go so far as to give every member a plus one for the party. They could invite anyone they like, Satanist or not. The latter even being preferred. Maybe that could get some new members, spread awareness for the cause. That was up to them, he didn’t really care. They could bring someone or not, he wouldn’t even notice. He had far better things on his mind than wondering who would be in attendance that night. It never even crossed his mind whether he would see you that night. In fact he’s barely thought of you at all since you’d met -only once maybe twice a day, if even that. 

As he got ready for the party he definitely wasn’t thinking about the fact that the cherry red blazer he had chosen for the event matched the blood he’d wiped from your finger on that fateful night. He didn’t base his choice of attire on the cape of the same color you had been wearing, nor did he reminisce on how good that color had looked on you. And when he ran his hand along the velvet he wasn’t thinking about the shock of electricity he felt course through his hand as his finger grazed yours.

As he meanders towards the main hall, he thinks of the speech he’s prepared. He wonders if he will make the audience bow in silence, or go the route of a more benevolent leader and have them raise and give themselves a round of applause. Maybe he would even have a ceremonial first dance after, and he could show his good graces by taking the hand of one of the plus ones as his partner. Yes that would inspire hope in the others, even if it would be misplaced.  
Walking into the room he was greeted by hundreds of bodies dressed to the nine, all looking at him with eyes full of lust and admiration. The members of the church were barely recognizable in their gowns and tuxedos, some dawning masquerade masks for the occasion, others in black Angel wings, and many with embellishments of snakes, horns and all things unholy. 

As he scans across his audience he sees loyal followers along with new faces he could see already wetting the pen to sign their souls away, just from a glance at him. 

He wasn’t already smiling to himself thinking about the way you would squirm having all eyes on you when he asks you for a dance. He was not thinking about what you would wear tonight, and how foolish your slimey little friend would look next to you in comparison. He also felt no jealousy at remembering the way said friend looked at you with protective eyes seeing you in his presence. And he certainly didn’t feel like smashing furniture when he saw him show up to the party ALONE!  
No it was just that he didn’t like that he couldn’t follow his one order and extend his own underserved invite to another and that simply won’t do.

After passing through the crowd, greeting follower upon followers along the way. He makes his way over to the bar where he sees Tyler getting a drink.  
It brings him great joy to see your friend almost spill his drink on himself when he turned around and ran right into Michael’s chest. He also felt a twinge of arrogance knowing he has the height advantage on him, on top of seeing Tyler’s eyes were full of fear that he may have offended him with his action. Without a second thought Tyler immediately bowed his head and apologized before greeting him.

“Good evening sir.. uh your majesty...or um dark lord.” Tyler stumbles to say as he straightens himself out.

“Langdon will do just fine.”

Tyler just nods his head afraid and not knowing what to say next.

“On second thought, I think I prefer Sir.” Michael says, raising his chin and basking in the pleasure of making your friend tremble. 

Michael still felt a little uncomfortable with all of his new found admirers and would really just have been fine with everyone calling him by his first name and treating him like he was just another guest tonight. But something about the man standing before him made Michael want to squish him with his shoe and make him lick off the grime he’d leave behind. Even though Tyler had proven to be a loyal follower, he found himself irrationally angry at having to endure his company. He’s not sure why, but he feels like this particular follower needs to know just who is in charge, and who is not to be messed with or gotten in the way of.

“Where’s your plus one?” Michael asks, breaking the mind numbing silence caused by your frightened friend.

“My what?”

“Your invitation was extended to you and a guest, yet here you are all alone.”

The inquiry catches Tyler off gaurd. He never thought Michael would even notice him in the crowd full of people gunning for his attention, let alone notice that he came here unaccompanied. 

“Um I...I don’t have many friends outside of the church or satanism in general, so I figured I’d just come by myself”

Michael felt a sense of excitement knowing he wouldn’t have to push the conversation towards the subject he wanted. Your friend’s lack of a social life made things all too easy. 

“Well I know for a fact you have at least one, where is she tonight?”

Tyler’s eyes widen in alert, realizing just why Michael saught him out tonight. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little jealous at how easily you had captured the interested of someone so important to himself. “Oh I don’t know, I didn’t ask”

“Well no wonder you have no other friends, you’re clearly not good at it. This is the party of the year and you didn’t extend the invite to the only one you have.”

“I don’t think she’ll want to come” It’s true. You hadn’t told Tyler what you talked about with Michael. You said Michael threatened to kill him and feed him to a goat if you told him the information he had shared with you, and even though he was pretty sure you were joking he didn’t want to risk it.

He could see the change in you though, after that night. You were more tense when he would come over after a service or see another satanist on the street. You didn’t even mock him for thanking the dark lord before meals anymore, just looked at him with a mixture of concern and pity. So when he got the invite he kept it to himself knowing if you came here, at worst you could get yourself killed and at best it would just be awkward. 

“Well you never know until you try” Michael points out. Waiting a moment before raising his eyebrow, as if to say ‘well what are you waiting for?’

“Right now?”

“You have a plus one, I expect you to use it”

“...Sir..I...I could ask somebody else, there’s a girl in my class, she’s always wearing a cross necklace and I’ve heard her talk about her youth group, surely if I asked-” the sentence dies on his lips as Michael lifts his hand to stop him.  
So that’s why he didn’t bring you tonight. Michael felt a sigh of relief knowing that your friend wasn’t covering for your declined invite, he thought the extension had only been given for dubious reasons. He can’t say he’s surprised, but that doesn’t make him any less irritated.

“Your chivalry is noted, but not necessary. My intention is not to kill her, I just want to talk to her.”

Michael can see Tyler’s thought process play out before him, searching his words for the truth. He couldn’t help but be impressed for a moment, even though your friend looked like he could soil himself at any moment he was still trying to protect you. It only made Michael hate him more. He brought you to a room full of savages and got you placed right in the jaws of the devil himself and now he thinks he can hide you from him, too little too late. Why you decide to spend your time with someone like him he would never know. If you were friends with someone like himself, Michael thinks, you could be running the church by now not stuck in the back row with this cretin. And he had a feeling you could fight your own battles, you didn’t need this fool coming to your defense, or worse waving the white flag and giving up the fortress for you. 

Deciding he’s telling the truth, Tyler pulls out his phone, brings up your contact and begins to text you. All under the watchful eye of Michael. 

/

‘Hey what are you up to?’

‘Nothing just watching slasher movies and scaring the neighbor kids, wanna come over?’

‘Actually I was wondering if you’d want to come to a party at the Chateau Marmont?’

‘That’s awfully fancy, do I want to know who's throwing it?’

‘Probably not’

‘What running low on sacrifices? I don’t appreciate being your back-up. Do you even want my lily white soul or are you just all out of options?’

‘Actually Michael asked me to invite you.’

No answer.

‘So will you come?’

/

It felt like eternity for Tyler, waiting there with the Antichrist breathing down his neck. He didn’t know if he wanted to warn you that Michael seemed a little too interested in seeing you tonight, or be pissed at you for going and gaining the interest of his savior. Your behavior was likely to get him killed by the man of the hour.

“What’s that? What just happened?” Michael asked. Noting the way the screen had lit up like you were typing, only to disappear and that dreaded ‘read’ pop up under his message. Yep, Tyler thinks, he was definitely a dead man. “She left us on read.” 

“I don’t understand, didn’t those little bubbles mean she was typing?” 

“Yea that was her way of leaving us on read and being an extra dick about it.”

Tyler was scared beyond belief hearing Michael’s exhale sound eerily close to a growl next to his ear. And even more afraid when he turned and saw the look in his eye. It was one of anger mixed with another emotion he couldn’t quite place. He’s no longer certain Michael still just wants to talk. 

“What’s her address?” 

“Um… I..uh..I don’t know we only hang out at my house.”

“If you’re going to lie you have to be better at it, I saw her text inviting you over.” Michael was really getting fed up. He had already talked to this man longer than he ever planned to, and now he couldn’t just give him the one thing he wanted. He was walking a thin line. It didn’t matter if this man had sold his soul to his father, he was about to find himself without one.

“Let me be clear, we can do this the easy way, or we can do this the fun way.”

//

You had just finished the fourth Halloween movie and were in the middle of getting more snacks for the next one when you heard a knock at the door. Even though you didn’t hear the tell tale “trick or treat” you still assumed it must be more kids looking for candy.  
As you put down your own stash of snacks and went to grab the bowl for the kids the knocking kept up, getting louder and more intense.

“I’m coming” you shouted, beginning to get a little annoyed at their impatience. Yet they didn’t let up only knocking harder.

“Oh my god, hold your horses.  
Every extra knock is just one less piece of candy.”

Finally making it to the door, you were fully prepared to tell the little assholes that you were all out of candy and they were about to get apples full of straight razors instead. But were surprised when you opened it and found yourself face to face with Michael, looking just as beautiful (possibly more) as the last time you saw him, even with the scowl on his face.

Was Michael the last person you expected to see at your door? Yes. Did you feel excitement brewing at the prospect of him leaving his own party of expectant followers to trudge across town to your apartment? Yes. Were you going to let him know that? Absolutely not. 

“That’s a scary mask” you say. Earning a devious smile from him

“Hmm, is this one better?” and within a flash his skin turns ghostly white with deep cracks as black as his eyes. And as quick it was there it was gone and his face was back to “normal”.  
There’s no denying how terrifying he looked in that moment, it was truly a thing of nightmares. But seeing it really didn’t frighten you, at least not as much as you know Michael wishes it would. It's as though you can see the effort he’s putting into trying to make you uncomfortable. There’s no doubt the kind of power Michael has, but you can’t help but think it’d be more unsettling to see him acting on his instincts than when he puts on these little performances.  
Or maybe it’s just that seeing that cocky smile on his face now makes you want to slap it right off, and you refuse to let him see you sweat.

“That’s a cool trick, I guess you deserve a treat” you dismiss, offering him the bowl of candy. He says nothing, just looks at it before raising his eyes back to yours.

“What are you doing here?” 

“When someone asks you a question it’s very rude not to answer.”

“I didn’t realize Satan was so big on manners, you know you never said please” again he gives you no response. Just squints his eyes a little and waits for you to continue. As the pressure mounts you remind yourself never to get in a staring eye contest with him, he’d be undefeated you’re sure.

“Um ok, no I don’t want to come to the party.”

“Why? I can’t imagine you’ve gotten a better offer? There’s no better party going on tonight, I’ve made sure of it.”

“I’m just not in the mood.” 

“No you’d rather stay here and fill up on cheap candy when you could be gorging yourself on gourmet dinners and the finest champagne.” He says pushing past you and taking in your apartment as you stay glued to your front door.

“Yea kind of.” It was true, not that you didn’t enjoy a party and fancy food as much as the next person, and you had gotten invites to other events from a few friends tonight, but it had been a long time since you just stayed in for the holiday. It seemed kind of fun to spend the whole night binging horror movies and eating too much candy.

He doesn’t say more, just starts picking up random knick-knacks and running his hands over your furniture.

“Please make yourself at home.” The anger in your voice is more to mock him than anything else. You should want to yell at him for touching your things and sauntering around your apartment like he already owns the place. But you’re more amused at his choice to leave his party and come all the way down here just to bug you. 

“I’m glad to see you didn’t burn up crossing the threshold without my invitation.”

“I’m not a vampire.” Michael answers with a scoff while flipping through the books you’d left on your coffee table.

“Sorry I don’t know the rules of antichristdom”

“Well if you came to church you might.”

“Please, those people don’t know the rules either, they looked like hell may as well have frozen over the day you showed up at the church. They’re probably looking up holy daggers on the dark net, and checking the hospitals for babies who have a Christ-like twinkle in their eye”

He just tilts his head at you confused, clearly not getting the reference.

“Like in The Omen movies.”

“Never seen ‘em.”

“You’ve never seen The Omen?” 

He just shrugs his shoulders.

“You’re the literal Antichrist and you’re not even the least bit curious how Hollywood portrays you?” You question. Finally closing your door and making your way over to Michael, since he doesn’t seem to have any intention of leaving anytime soon. 

“Miss Mead said they're terrible films that paint the real hero as a villain”

“Who’s Miss Mead?”

“No one.” He dismisses, but you still catch a pass of sadness in his eyes, so you don’t push further.

“Well to be fair he does have moments of sympathy, he’s not a totally one dimensional character” you argue. “Besides you really just watch it for the gore and the bad special effects.” You wonder how you ended up defending a movie and characterization of the Antichrist to the actual Antichrist. What a conundrum you never thought you would find yourself in.

“Ok why don’t you show me then.” 

You stop and look at him taken aback by his comment. You don’t know why he was so concerned about your absence from the party, let alone why he’d want to spend more time with you in general. Yet here he is beginning to remove his jacket and take a seat on your couch. 

“Now?”

“Well you’re clearly not busy, you’re not attending any parties you were graciously invited to.”

“Yea but aren’t you like the main event there? Won’t they miss you?”

“They always miss me.” He's obviously made up his mind and there’s no need arguing with him. He’s already made himself comfortable, kicking off his shoes and searching for the remote to your tv.

“Um ok”

“Great I’ll set up the movie, you get the popcorn...and bring over that bowl of chocolates too I think I will have my treat. If you behave maybe I’ll share.”

//

If anyone had told you that morning that you would end the night with the Antichrist in your bed you would have laughed in their face, but here you were drifting off to the sounds of Michael’s soft snores as he sleeps soundly next to you. 

You had ended up watching all three of The Omen movies that night with Michael. Then you put on the remake but spent the entirety of it talking instead of paying attention. In fact you and Michael talked all night after the movie was long forgotten. He told you all about his own black mass, when he found out who he was and learned his true purpose. You kept your disapproval to the minimum and only showed the slightest grimace when he talked about eating the heart of the girl his mother figure found at the bus stop like she was just another night’s take-out or meal at a restaurant, one that he would deem all and all..not bad. 

Some of his stories were a little on the uncomfortable side but they were outweighed by the ones that kept you thoroughly entertained. He told you all about his time at Hawthorne and all the trouble he got into with his classmates. Which often ended up with them in detention but him with a pat on the back since they thought he was “the alpha” and their saving grace. Oh how wrong they were. He also told you about his Miss Mead, everything she had done for him and what the witches had done to her. 

You told him all about your life too, the classes you were taking in college, some of your hopes for after graduation, you told him about your family and friends, which of your neighbors you greeted in the morning and which ones you silently cursed at under your breathe because they were constantly waking you up at 4 in the morning with their stomping and arguing. Michael of course offered to kill them for you, and you just laughed at that being the first place his mind would go. You did however compromise with letting him use some of his “powers” to convince them now was a good time to break their lease and find somewhere new to live. 

It was odd how comfortable you felt with Michael and even more odd how comfrotable he felt with you. Many times when you were sharing your own memories you would start to second guess why you had decided to tell him these particular stories, as your life must seem rather pedestrian and was probably boring him. But then you’d catch his eye and see him listening intently like he was hanging on every word. He would always ask you questions and want to know what certain people you had known were doing now. By the end of the night you even got him laughing at some of your jokes. Actually laughing, not just the little smirk you had gotten at the beginning of the night. That might have been a mistake you think, because once you heard it, his real genuine laugh, there was no doubt in your mind there was no better sound. Even if you never heard it again it would stick with you for the rest of your life. It made your favorite songs sound like inaudible noise in comparison.

You had never opened up to anyone so quickly, and aside from Miss Mead he had never opened up to anyone at all. You had talked about anything and everything that night until well into the AM. When you saw his eyes getting heavy you offered him to stay the night, thinking he would take the couch, only to be surprised when he followed you to your room.  
After loosing the argument as to why that was inappropriate you let him stay in your bed as long as he promised to keep his hands to himself.

//

You woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee brewing.  
Michael offered you a cup in return for you making him pancakes. He was so suave and uncharacteristically nice you didn’t even bother trying to argue that him pressing brew on your own coffee maker and you whipping up pancakes from scratch was not an even trade.

But after breakfast Michael surprised you once again, by clearing your plates for you and helping you do the dishes.

“So what are your plans for the day?” He’d asked while handing you the last bowl to put away.

“Since it’s Saturday I usually just run errands and catch up on the things I don’t have time to do during the week.”

“Would you mind if I join you?” The question stopped you in your tracks.

“You want to run errands with me? It’s gonna be pretty boring, really mundane things.” You were taken aback not only by the question itself but the look in Michael’s eyes, which could only be described as that of a “sad puppy dog”.

“I used to run errands with Miss Mead when she first took me in, I could use a little mundane in my life.” Michael had missed this. These rare times, where he felt almost normal. Everyone and everything else in his life were there for his purpose. Every conversation was either about his father or his plans. So although he was happy to be back on the path to destruction, he missed moments like this where there was no pressure and he could simply be human, or as close to it as he was capable. 

“Ok, then I’ll make sure to make it extra tediace just for you.” You smiled and felt a flutter in your stomach seeing the way Michael’s eyes lit up. Why he would want to go to the grocery store and pick up dry cleaning with you of all people you would never know, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was blown away at the response from the first chapter! I can’t believe so many people read it, let alone actually liked it.  
> I still don’t have much of a plan for where this is going I’m just kind of letting it take on a mind of it’s own. I never realized how cathartic writing could be until this, and it’s been pretty fun to just go with it.  
> I hope you enjoy where it’s going, but if not I think the first chapter can kind of work as a stand alone piece and you can imagine that going anywhere you want lol.
> 
> There are many fics that have made their way into my brain and surely influenced it. Especially in what’s to come. But for right now I must give a shout out to Apocalypse Barbiee’s ‘A Fly In The Ointment’. I have read that fic more times than I can count, and as I was writing this I realized the growth of their relationship in the coming chapters is very inspired by the one in that fic! In fact I must give a special thank you to all of Carissa’s exquisite writing, I often go back and read many of her writings when I want to get “in the mood” to edit, especially when it comes to dialogue, which she is the master of! So thank you for the endless inspiration!!
> 
> Splitting up this chapter does mean pushing back the smut, I’m sorry about that. But the next chapter will have some uhh...situations and sexual tension.  
> Thank you so much for reading!! I hope you enjoyed! The next chapter should be up very soon.


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